


Masquerade

by Travant



Series: Felannie Week works [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Azure Moon Spoilers, F/M, Felannie Week (Fire Emblem), no beta we die like Glenn, well no beta as of work one at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23587162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Travant/pseuds/Travant
Summary: The first of a series of short works for Felannie Week! Also my first fanfic!
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Series: Felannie Week works [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698412
Kudos: 15





	Masquerade

There was no reason for Felix to feel regret when he took down an enemy. The enemy, after all, would not hesitate to do the same to him. This was basic common sense, and applied regardless of whether he was facing down a towering Demonic Beast with only his battalion to aid him, or carefully aiming an arrow at a bandit headed for an ally, or sending the enemy’s pegasi and wyverns screaming and crashing to the ground with their riders, or cutting down the Empire’s commanders during the heat of battle.

When the professor held her war councils, Felix mostly stayed silent. He knew that his input, though sometimes useful, was usually something that the other members of the army had covered already. The professor alone had enough tactics for three armies, though she was distracted by having to keep the boar on its leash. Well, as close as anyone could get, anyways.

This time, Gilbert had just laid out his plan to cross the Great Bridge of Myrddin. It seemed like a reasonable plan, or at least as close to a safe strategy as he could think of. He had known little of Claude from his academy days. But only a fool would turn their previously neutral army on someone who might be an ally without very good reason. If Claude was that foolish, then his head wouldn’t be scheming unknown strategies in Derdriu. It would be mounted on a pike in the Imperial Capital.

He tuned back into the conversation at the sound of Mercedes’s soft voice. “Speaking of House Gloucester, I wonder how Lorenz is holding up…”

Lorenz. He remembered the boy as a pompous fool from five years ago. He was clearly intelligent and powerful, but he was always prattling on about nobility and other nonsense. He would likely be a foe if he showed his face, considering that his father had allied with the Empire.

As if reading his thoughts, Annette’s voice joined the conversation. Her normally upbeat manner had given way to a sort of detached… something. “If we meet him again, it will probably be as enemies.” Here, the something changed to what was obviously sadness. “To be honest, I’d rather avoid seeing him altogether.”

Annette and Mercedes… they knew him, didn’t they? He remembered Annette telling him one day about her time in the School of Sorcery. Her eyes had been bright and cheerful, then, and it was his greatest pleasure to listen with a content expression as she told him, giggling and sighing and pouting alternately, of her escapades learning magic, dealing with stubborn teachers, watching her fellow students, making long-lasting friendships---

“If you do not wish to kill familiar faces, do not tarry over the corpses of the dead.”

The boar’s hoarse growl snapped Felix back to reality, and he nodded grimly. Well, even as a raving animal, the prince could make sense. This was war. They could not afford to get lost in sentiment.

A few weeks later, the Kingdom Army (it should have been called the professor’s army, the boar now was the farthest thing from a battlefield commander and the Kingdom barely existed anymore) had stood on the Great Bridge of Myrddin. Opposing them were the Imperial armies, their red banners flying high and proud. Up there with the banners was Ladislava, an Imperial general, looking down on their army from her wyvern.

When the Imperial forces met their own, the battle that would have been straightforward fighting evolved into a bloody mess. The Empire was ready for a challenge, and soon, a force of mages and cavalry and infantry alike led by an Alliance noble warped onto the battlefield behind the Kingdom Army, spreading chaos and panic. The Kingdom rallied quickly, maintaining a defensive line in front to hold off the enemy until they could take down these newcomers. It wasn’t looking good, however, and the surprise had already cost them a number of soldiers.

But then a group of men had materialized out of nowhere, and the stunned enemies stood no chance. The warriors ran screaming into battle, and every wild swing of their axes and gauntlets felled another Empire soldier. The ambush was over as soon as it had started, and the surprise reinforcements cheered and joined the Kingdom army, to everyone’s surprise.

Felix’s voice was flat. “You’re dead.” He turned away. “The professor was dead. The boar was dead. I shouldn’t be surprised at this point.”

He didn’t see Dedue smile, but he heard his chuckle as he turned back to the fight, and they soon melted into the incredulous shouts of joy as Ashe and Sylvain caught sight of the man. Felix couldn’t help wearing a grin of his own.

The next familiar face he saw was less happy. Lorenz stared down at him from atop his black steed, fire flickering in his open palm. 

“Felix Fraldarius,” he said, his voice deeper and more matured. This was not the partying fool he remembered. “I know you do not like to idly banter, so let us not tarry.”

Felix drew his sword without a word, his lips pressed together in a line. He leaped at Lorenz, who tried to pull his horse back to avoid the sudden assault. Too late. Felix slit the poor beast’s throat, and it screamed as it died. Lorenz rolled off its back with surprising agility, standing up to face Felix once more. Felix did not even pause, running towards Lorenz, and jumping to the right to dodge a fireball, and then cursing as another spell burst into flame right at his feet, and stumbling close enough to strike, bringing his sword down in a blur of steel, and then Lorenz parried it with a lance that he seemed to pull out of nowhere---

Lorenz’s head was suddenly and violently ripped from his shoulders by the orange flash of a relic weapon.

The boar didn’t even pause, swinging Areadbhar onto his back and running towards and leaping atop his horse once more. The lance pulsed like a beacon, the orange glow stained a dark red with his classmate’s blood.

Felix’s eyes caught Annette staring blankly at the spot where her friend had been standing just a moment ago. Her face was pale.

Felix wanted to throw up, but he sheathed his sword and looked away. His face slipped back into the impassive mask that he had been wearing before the encounter, and he knew that some short distance away, Annette’s face had shifted to its own mask: the one that she wore when her father walked away from her yet again. Blank, and grim, and fractured.

If you do not wish to kill familiar faces, do not tarry over the corpses of the dead.


End file.
